


Ghosting Up Your Spine

by starcrossed_writer



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Bottom Keith (Voltron), Established Relationship, Hair-pulling, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Oral Fixation, Porn with Feelings, Season/Series 04, Spanking, Top Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 02:00:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15985202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starcrossed_writer/pseuds/starcrossed_writer
Summary: Perhaps doing this in the upside down pool wasn't the best proportioned idea to start with, but the feeling of Lance's caring touch holding him makes Keith's brain fuzz and sizzle like an electrical cord held astray underwater—pleasant in all the right places he wants it to be.





	Ghosting Up Your Spine

The castle had settled for the night, the lights automatically programmed by Pidge and Coran's handiwork to seem to show nighttime-level light. They're gentle and calming, not too drastically overwhelming in the slightest as they cast a careful glow on Keith and Lance's bared backs.

Lance was gently guiding Keith, their feet calmly yet with a sense of underlying adventurous youth making soft pads down the uneventful hallway. Lance's hand were ever a delightful scorch on Keith's jutting, bony hips with so much of his starved skin craving more. Which had, thus, made the other's resolve crumble into acceptance that wasn't that hard to achieve—Keith couldn't sleep via yet another nightmare earlier that night.

He had woken up in a sweat, hair clung in ringlets and messy remnants of what was to have been a past ponytail formation, wispiness clear all around as Keith had stared at Lance's peaceful form.

He tracked the continuous pattern of Lance's chest going up and down as he shook in place, gripping the blankets and trying not to make a sound until he had to assure himself Lance was still there, with him. There, in the vast yet embracing silence of Lance's (at this point, though, shared) room, where the dark pestered him along by tauntingly casting shadows.

His thumb hurt; he tended to nibble or bite his thumb in his sleep due to this nasty embarrassing habit of sucking on it when he was tired or extremely stressed. Having the nightmare must have triggered such a sense, he reasons with himself as he shyly nudged Lance's thumb out its alcove of a fisted hand-lock. He felt a soft rumble stir up in his throat, relieving some anxieties but not all of them.

He liked Lance's thumb, too, and it was good to help sleep with. The comforting assurance that he could have it there, even with slight bashfulness from him in the morning when Lance woke up before him to watch. He'd always pull it away quickly and not talk about it; it was a silent agreement.

Keith glanced at Lance's peaceful expression then down to his thumb as he sucked on it carefully, nerves then smoothing themselves over when he had brushed his tongue over the pad—he swirled over it in repetition, the skin smooth and soft with care as he blinked back the ghost of a whimper as he had gotten flashes of his terror.

Tears formed strong and fortified within his lashes, sticking there begrudgingly like gross residue as he gnawed gently on the slightly more elongated and thinner digit. Keith whined slightly as he adjusted himself, allowing that vulnerable sound to escape as he permitted movement; he's mindful of himself, having scooted more until he's nestled politely in the crook of Lance's neck.

Lance's thumb provided great distraction, yet so did the soft glide of Keith's bare expanse of skin against Lance's. It receded his thoughts, grounded him as he scribbled his tongue over the base of the thumb—their naked hips minded enough to meld together seamlessly in the softness of shade.

Keith pressed his head more into Lance's neck, trembling as he had heard the familiar beating of a heart trapped behind the rib cage. He has to make sure Lance was still there, still beating, still fine, still not leaving, and still alive above all. Then, he jumped a bit as he felt a hand with sleep still dragged in the action brush through his hair with care. He leaned into it, stifling a tiny sob in that process as he pulls more in attention at Lance's thumb—wanting to ask silently you're real, right in a tiny and muffled kind of way.

It continued for a time, not any words breathed nor thought of after as neither dwells on observing the past but only the present time to be engraved in their memory at the enraptured expanse of night containing the sea of stars they both so fondly grew up looking at.

"Hey...I'm here." Lance soothed him after a while, voice covered in layers of drowsiness, and then took care as he gathered him up more after slipping into the permission given to be awake in his arms. Keith made himself small, fitting like a puzzle piece as Lance rocked them in place once he's fully collected within his lap. He allowed it, this late at night, to be this tender and this unsound.

But it's almost always only ever for and around Lance, and the Blue Paladin cherishes how he can choose to hold his tough little Blade in his arms. Tucked away from the world and sucking on his boyfriend's thumb, albeit with little pokes and the splatter of embarrassment accompanying such as per usual.

Keith's skin was sensitive and had twitched as he warned his touch against his side in mindful little pokes and squiggles, which had elicited warm little invitations of laughter to peel out of him in accidental tangent. Snorts had found their usual place instead of the fearful sobs of nightmarish gunk to be thrown out. Keith covered his face shyly, one to be self-conscious of his unabashed laugh as he shifted, hair a mess of tussled trouble and unwarned dreams.

Lance winded his arm around Keith, then leaned forward with precision to kiss his forehead, giving murmured reassurances of  _I'm here for you honey_  and  _feel my heartbeat_ _, see_  that uncoiled the nerves that were wrapped tight like a snake in Keith.

They settled once again after a while, the air tender and sweet as Keith quelled himself. Lance hummed lightly a Spanish lullaby that he had memorized long ago, far before the events of this war—just like as he did so to his younger nephews and nieces that would ask him.

It's apparent they are not ones to get back into the depths of slumber, as Keith swayed lightly to the tune while all the while drawing lines in peaceful boredom over Lance's hips, then traced his lithe pelvis before squeezing mindlessly—Lance playfully pinched his ass in retaliation, which made him squeal with surprise.

"Lance!" He gave a scandalous look back at him, face flushing slightly in a scowl and squirming as Lance just leaned down and planted a kiss on his cheeks in repetition. It was quite difficult to say around the thumb, but Lance just gave a hearty smirk as he shifted Keith and palmed Keith's ass within his hands.

It was apparent they were still coated in the deep recesses of sleep, as Keith groaned softly and murmured Lance's name again finely with a delicate announcement in the air. It appeared Lance wanted this to head in a different direction, and who was Keith to really stop him?

"Keith, did you have another nightmare?" Lance murmurs, feeling cocky and softly working his fingers inconspicuously between the crack of Keith's still sensitive ass, aiming at teasing him as the one in question shivered from the sensitivity.

Lance had mastered the spots that drove Keith crazy, leaning down to carefully trail his kisses down his neck. Sucking on the collarbone lovingly, he gently licked the remnants of hickies that he had left along it, admiring his handiwork as he leaned back.

Keith's eyes had quickly become half-lidded with an air of calm aura surrounding him, enjoying this way of being grounded to himself as he weakly moves his hips to glide over Lance's leg. He bites hard on Lance's thumb, gnawing on it in a positive type of stress as he feels himself get hard down below—all while staring with that face at Lance, already wrecked and gone for the boy gently guiding his hips to slide over that smooth leg.

Keith's mouth slid slack only incrementally, Lance moving to gently slap his cheek just enough to leave remnants of pink for a few sweet seconds on the sensitive bottom. Keith responded with a tiny pleasured noise, almost a purr but more needy. He glided his crotch on the expanse, creating friction by fucking himself on Lance's leg, panting.

"Did you?" Lance reiterated the statement, kneading the skin and taking care of Keith's worries by giving him a far more pleasant issue to address soon in his groin, feeling Keith gently butt his head against his shoulder and his breathing stuttering as he continued. Then Lance felt the occurrence of a nod, and smiled softly as he rocked him again, letting Keith slide up and down his leg with abandoned wanton desire.

Then he had an idea, although he was quite positive Keith would not allow him to take action of it. After all, the boy's movements were jerked, uncoordinated as he still shook from something underlying the pleasure—he couldn't grasp it because he kept on having to look down at Lance with slight (only slight; Keith hated crying in front of others, even his own boyfriend) tears in his lashes.

He had kept on squeezing uncomfortably in places, almost to secure Lance there with fever effort, terrified in his recessed mind that Lance would leave as his breath hitches something terrible in a slight sob.

Keith was trying to appear fine. He wanted this, as much as Lance did, and his terror was keeping him from the uttermost satisfaction of fully enjoying it without having to think about it once more. Thus, it was causing his heart to stutter in its cage of ribs until he could suffocate because of it; he was panicking, but keeping it at bay.

Lance noticed, of course, coaxing Keith to focus as he tugged on his arm with purpose.

"Hey, babe, you're fine...I'm fine. I'm not going anywhere, okay? Okay?" He reaffirmed, gently moving Keith off of his lap to sit in front of him, connecting their pinky fingers and maintaining soft eye contact.

After a while Keith calmed down from his frazzled state, looking stable and more quelled. He blinked and swung their pinkies together with a smile, huffing.

"Yeah...Yeah, I know. Sorry..." Keith choked out, voice wobbly. He wanted to continue what they were doing now that he was soothed, evident to how he had shifted and hid himself away again. Perhaps he got a bit too lost in his desires.

Lance gave him a gentle peck on his lips, adoring how bashful his boyfriend could be about this certain times, pulling his thumb out of Keith's mouth and feeling the residue of saliva and seeing the nibbled intentions of teeth. A slight spit trail connected his thumb to Keith's mouth and he saw Keith flush even harder.

Most would be grossed out, but Lance adored it and loved how Keith chose to do this around only him—he used his chew necklace during the day when things were stressful, but at night Keith had Lance. He had never felt more endeared to this boy in his life than at night.

Keith blushed more and more as he looked at it, almost ashamed as he creased his brow.

"It's fine, y'know." Lance affirmed, wiping it on the sheets. Keith just shrugged in response. Lance then coddled Keith afterwards with daft care, looping his arms around his lower abdomen. Keith wasn't one to usually initiate the affection, but Lance was enough for the both of them combined.

Over the time, Keith had grown used to Lance's constant attention and care—at first he had been annoyed, yes, but it attached to him like a new idea that wouldn't leave and made itself a home in his heart.

Of course, he only acted this accepting when they were alone. Any other time and he'd playfully swat him away with the hint of a smile on his face.

"I have an idea." Lance started suddenly into the quiet, making Keith jump and look back at him. When Lance says he has an idea, it's normally an idea that he sometimes decides to dumbly go along with. It can have good or bad or even in-between outcomes. Keith invited him to continue with a lazy hand, being focused on Lance as he scribbled doodles aimlessly on his stomach.

"Let's go for a swim." He murmured, which made Keith laugh and shake them both in the process.

"Lance," Keith grinned, staring at him, "It's like midnight, why...?" He trailed off in disbelief, amused immensely as he pinched his boyfriend on the leg.

Lance yelped, putting on a perfected pout.

"I mean, swimming helps calm me down...maybe it'll work for you too instead of training," Lance offered, and he'd smirked slightly at Keith's confusion (since how he de-stressed was mainly training and sometimes sleeping if he felt like he'd not be an insomniac for one night).

"It'd just be us, alone in the pool since Allura finally showed me how to correct the gravitational effect on it..." He continued to hint, and waited patiently for Keith to get the implied intention underlying the sentence. Keith blinked, processing it with a slow nod.

With sly motives in his tone, Lance hummed, "I could always take care of you there."

Keith flushed deeply, brushing his fringe away with a hushed exhale, "You know I can't swim well." He came up with that excuse on the spot; in reality, his heart did a leap at the prospect of getting caught. It wasn't a lie, but yet he also didn't know why he was stalling.

"How else am I supposed to chase those nightmares of yours away, huh?" Lance's eyes flicked down to Keith's lap to where his cock was flushed up against his stomach—it had already been leaking, and Keith had crossed his legs to hide it again in vain. Sue him if he already had begun fantasizing about it, he's a teenager.

"Plus, it seems you're already pretty excited at the idea," Lance had almost purred, pleased with himself but gently and once more teasingly squeezing Keith's ass, which made him bite back a breathy moan.

"I...I'll get our swim trunks." Keith then choked out, and he wiggled with slight disappointment in his veins as he had got up out of the bed to get the articles of clothing in question.

Lance had watched him the whole time, coy at an objective complete, curling and stretching like a pleased feline.

This is how they ended up in this current situation, heading to the pool with towels draped over their necks and the intentions to not quite swim per se.

Once they took a trip into the elevator, hoping it would not choose this inopportune moment to break down again like before, they filed out into the pool area. They both let out sighs of relief at the fact that they wouldn't be more stressed than one already was earlier this evening.

Keith glanced over at the upside-down pool, looking back to Lance who held up a finger and went over to a compartment in the wall, configuring the gravity polarization.

"So I figured out that we're actually upside down, and the pool is right side up...maybe? If I press this button here the pool will go and shift to our type of up or down." Lance explained, doing as he said which made the pool shift, and them stumble to eventually fall on the ground due to the unexplained movement of the Altean structure at work.

The couple stood back up, looking at the pool as it should be—logically not on the ceiling and unachievable.

"Have I ever told you that you're smart as fuck?" Keith said, smiling fondly and unabashedly at Lance because sometimes (read: always) he's so in love with this boy.

Lance shrugs, entangling their fingers and leading them over to it, "You could stand to mention it more." He sticks his chin up in the air proudly, and yeah Keith knew it was a mistake to say that—his boyfriend thrives off of compliments, sucking it up.

Keith scoffs, grinning. "Your ego would definitely inflate too much," he knocks his shoulder against Lance.

Lance smiles brightly, guffawing indignantly and not saying nothing back but giving a finger gun with one hand, letting go of Keith's own (with the normal ounce of reluctance) and stepping down the steps into the pool.

Keith looks down at Lance for a second, before joining him in the water—which was weirdly lukewarm, not cold like the rest of the castle suggests it's temperature to be (of course, the place was made almost entirely of metal).

He still shivered, goosebumps forming on his skin before he sat on the steps, deep enough so that the water already went up to his armpits. Keith wasn't much of a swimmer, and Lance knows this—the boy can do a doggy paddle at best; he's not too thrilled with water, but he does quite enjoy relaxing and floating in it. Just as long as it's not the deep end.

Lance knows that Keith is terrified of the deep part of the pool—especially when it comes to the ocean. Lance usually has to gently coax him out that far with the promise of cuddles later when that's involved. On planets that have safe bodies of water, Keith equated that you'd equally be likely to find Lance there too. Keith's like a cat, albeit a bit more tame (to this day Keith denies being able to hiss during their fights and purr when he's happy. He's done it plenty of times before—he's just too modest about his heritage capabilities).

"C'mon, sourpuss." Lance hums, treading easily in the deep end with broad strokes as he moves over to the steps where Keith's curled up, staring down at the water then up at Lance with firm disapproval in his eyes.

"You're real lucky I love you," Keith threatens, glaring while pouting before starting to move to where Lance is able to hold him, supporting his back and ass as he gently wraps his arms and legs around Lance in a silent snake-like vice grip.

Lance just laughs again, soft and reminding Keith of wind-chimes almost (either that or he's far too lovestruck). He's like a koala, letting Lance hold him as he looks down at the other boy with a slight quirk to his lips.

They don't even have to say anything, the lighting reflecting off of the pool and the invited silence of just them there making their lips meld together slowly but with confidence.

It started off soft and careful as always, Lance treading the water to make ripples as he hooks his fingers with one hand over the waistband of Keith's trunks, tethering himself as he lets himself get immersed reminiscent of the times he's gone surfing—that prone familiarity coils in his chest tight and sharp.

Time is a lost concept, winding away as all Lance focuses on is Keith's short fingers carding softly in his hair. The kiss deepens as Keith scratches the roots, minutes twisting in confusion about how long they spend together.

Then Lance slips (because somehow only he can manage that) and they both fall backwards into the water, Lance quickly moving to pick Keith back up to where he was. Keith looks like a picture-perfect frame example of a grumpy kitten. His hair is dripping and pressed down around him, so Lance moves Keith's fringe to see his eyes and face.

Keith's breathing hard and so is he but all he hears is a pleasant buzz before they both erupt into unadulterated laughter, faces red and Keith's oh-so-lovable freckles highlighted with the water's sheen.

Lance is wet, too, both having gone completely under at the incident but they just giggle and prance their laugh boxes until they stop being turned to play.

They stare at each other a few good more seconds, indulging in this private moment, Lance fixing Keith's hair out of habit before he quickly escalates back into the situation at hand previously—he tugs at Keith's hair. Keith makes a sultry and blown whine, clawing at Lance's arms for a second before starting his gaze defiantly.

Taking the lead over the ex-leader, he escorts his boyfriend back over to the steps, pushing him carefully until he's got his back to the wide parts, laying down on them with his legs already slightly spreading in response.

Keith smirks in return to Lance's actions, slotting their mouths together when he moves up. It's far exceeded the limits of vanilla by now, the line skirting past rough for a chance moment when Keith scratches down Lance's back. It's a bit too slippery, and they lose purchase before it's achieved but it happens and it sends Lance reeling from the pleasure points it shoots in his blood.

It's not hard enough to permit actual bleeding, but there are apparent white-hot scratches down Lance's back, over the ginormous back scar taking up it. It was from the castle-ship explosion incident where he had saved Coran; it reminded Keith mainly of a sun due to the darkness in the center. It got lighter as it went out from there, in tendrils like rays.

Their tongues carefully flirt with each other, eventually leading to Lance leaning over Keith as he dominates the inside of his mouth with feverish thrill. Keith lets him, tongues in a tango of passion as Keith shifts and pulls and scrunches up his eyebrows. Lance hisses and curses as he spits out nothing but sweet talk under his breath between them.

To any others in the room, the sound of lips smacking together might be lewd. To them, it was treasured.

Keith leans up to bite into Lances shoulder to muffle his noises, but Lance softly 'tsks' near his ear and tugs on his hair, voice strong and powerful that makes Keith's knees turn to complete jelly.

"Let me hear you, baby boy," Lance commands softly, and that nickname sings a tune within Keith because he whimpers, shaking. "Let me hear that pretty voice of yours."

The praise goes right to his groin at the word pretty, Keith on instinct bucking up to grind into the other's crotch as he lets go of his teeth's hold on Lance's shoulder to moan again, voice tilting on cracking at yet another hair tug. He covers his mouth shyly with a hand. Lance punishes him for doing what he explicitly doesn't allow (Keith trying to get off) right at this moment, by thrusting up against his own clothed one, hard.

A taste of his own bittersweet medicine.

"Are you wanting to be bad, Keith?" Lance looks down at him, a scowl firm on his features as he growls, only making the tent in Keith's trunks harden more in the process.

"No, sir," He chokes out without even realizing it went past his lips, face flaming as he bites his lip. Lance nods, accepting the answer. He hooks his fingers to take off the swimming trunks, deeming them in the way. Keith moves his body up so he can slip them off with more ease.

Lance throws them in the water somewhere behind him, the material making them float instead of sink as the trunks move along the water, only highlighting Keith's state of obvious undress.

Mentally, Lance turns even more impossibly fond when he sees Keith shyly watching them with exhilarated anxiety, moving his own down only a bit so they still stay on his legs but expose his cock—he plans on being a tease.

Protectively, Lance moves to shield and envelop Keith's body away with his, grinning with disaster down at his boyfriend before moving his hand to dip it below the surface of the water to grasp Keith's dick, toying with the head and reveling in the way he elicits the squirming in place when Keith starts breathing heavily.

Eventually, the breaths titter off into full-fledged porn-star level moans, filling the room with unfiltered curses and scratches along a beautiful marred brown back.

"You're so loud, kitten, what if somebody hears you?" Lance huffed, squeezing Keith's shaft which made him yelp out in pleasure before teasingly thrusting a finger in and out of his hole. He watched for the reaction to saying that, noticing how much redder Keith had gotten once he had announced that. He felt enticed to continue this. Keith had looked away to how the water was sloshing all around them from the steps, avoiding his gaze.

"Oh, do you want them to hear? Want the others to know how much of a slut you are while you beg for my cock instead of just my hand?" Lance wickedly whispers, knowing he's got him as Keith flusters, nodding. His cock twitches at the imagery in Lance's grasp.

Lance drags his hand up and down in a rhythm on the shaft while ignoring Keith's tiny pleads and begs to come, "You'd like me fucking you right where they can all see, spread out and taking it like you deserve, huh?"

Keith arches his back as Lance drags his blunt nails slow over his dick, losing control and poise as he lets Lance and the water keep him afloat. He wants to let Lance use him, ruin him and grapple for more.

The trunks float forgotten in the water at the deep recesses of the pool, and Keith just leans up and suckles on Lance's bottom lip. He tugs it gently, meeting their mouths together before repeating, nipping and teasing as he purposefully regains some composure.

He's painfully turned on, never mind the humiliating position he's set himself in right now—he can't help but let out a sharp squeak as he feels the familiar protrusion of Lance's dick teasing him on the perineum of his hole, grazing it and making him uselessly hump the air mindlessly for it.

"You'd like me to take and hold you down to a few levels, wouldn't you?" Lance murmurs, leaning enough to nip at his ear and make Keith gasp with utter need, nodding his head and moving to bear his neck more in submission. He's moved to sit on the cold metal floor outside of the pool; he yelps at the frozen feeling of his ass before forgetting it as Lance squeezes his sides.

His legs are uselessly floundered on the steps, everything below his upper thighs under the water.

"Want me to use you like a toy, whenever I please?" He grunts, scowling as Keith starts grasping the pole next to him for leverage to listlessly and unashamedly hump the air again, so he growls once more before slapping Keith's hand away before it goes down to Keith's clenching and unclenching entrance.

"Bad boy, who told you that you could touch yourself?" He moves Keith more to him, tracing down his chest and feeling the familiarization of muscle there. "Only I can touch right now, understand?"

Keith nodded, making gasps and quivering. Lance leaned over to where Keith had never noticed the location of a small tube of alien lubricant—he'd came prepared, apparently—grabbing it.

The tube had been out of sight, near the wall, smartly hidden.

He used the already dirty hand to coat it in the tube's contents, relishing in the soft murmurs and grunts Keith released as he prepped him.

The lube was cold, making Keith shiver and hunch his shoulders up a bit in response to it. His hole fluttered automatically around the feeling of Lance's fingers rubbing on the inside of his walls and outside.

Lance utilized then his clean hand he didn't use before to teasingly finger-fuck his boyfriend, shoving his fingers in Keith's mouth with a blatant order.

"Suck."

Keith did just like that, coating Lance's fingers with saliva as he brought Keith a bit out of the water to hold him up slightly by his armpits. Lance knew he'd get more boneless the deeper they got into this. Moving Keith completely out of the water, he let Lance position him however he wanted his naked body to be.

Lance used his knees to part Keith's own legs wide, finding no reluctance, before adding the first finger and thrusting perfectly where he knew Keith's prostate was. He started off slow, almost agonizingly such at first, just relishing in Keith's facial expressions—the pleading look to speed up, get on with it past the teasing.

It elicited a definite sharp cry from Keith (via Lance's abilities to hit the mark), but he remained obedient to have his legs opened on display in front of Lance like this. The feeling stung at first, but then turned steadily pleasant as he clenched around it, nodding in confirmation that he was ready for another.

Lance gently coaxed in another, whispering sweet nothings as Keith sobbed not from the pain but the pure wanton desire for even more, scratching down his back once more without purpose to elicit a breathy moan from Lance.

Lance flicked his eyes down to Keith's dick, flushed up hard against his abdomen. A trail of pre-cum had already begun a white streak down his shaft, Keith starting to shake due to him being stimulated, but not enough. Just barepy enough ti chase the feeling.

"Such a good boy." Lance moved down to Keith's crotch, scooting Keith up more against the wall so he could suckle bruises into the sensitive skin of his thigh, making the boy shiver and feel fuzzily pleasant as Lance licked over the marks like he did his neck, breathing labored and heavy with his hair a mess. Lance felt Keith's hands settle, one on his shoulder, the other on his short hair.

Keith looked down at Lance, his face dreadfully close to his cock, and without even noticing what was happening at first he tilted his head back as Lance breathed (either on purpose or not) hot and heavy there. It sent him reeling, before becoming more red as Lance neglected his obvious problem.

He whined loud, and Lance squeezed his thighs in a silent suggestion to be patient.

Instead, Lance then turned to nibble the sensitive skin right near his happy trail. He crooned, body in static-shock as he felt him move lower from there to tug on the fine area between his thighs.

"La- _ahn_!" Keith panted, clipping the name along with watching the water ripple before feeling a quite literal bite back to reality, making him yelp and squirm.

Lance had stopped and had looked up at him, eyes lidded as he innocently pressed kisses to that area, and Keith scowled. He looked away, knowing Lance was being a little shit—he made no such move to stop him, though.

Keith's hands were still in the same spot, and he tugged hard on his hair just to even the playing field. Lance just winced, rolling his eyes in a bargaining gesture that that was a bit too harsh before going back to his task.

He continued to leave purple and blue bites all over his thighs, then massaged them after to get rid of the stinging.

Keith really loved having his thighs played with, and Lance happily thrilled in indulging him—he'd see the marks later and relive this moment like he always does when Lance plays with him.

Keith was at his wit's end, curling his hands against the cold floor. He growled, deep and frustrated, in the back of his throat.

Lance growled back, equally if not more challenging, and Keith hissed in what could be considered a small and accepting manner. He was half tempted to touch himself and get this over with, to hell if he's disobeying.

Lance noticed, moving to rub one of Keith's spots behind his right ear, thriving in the soft whine and loss of primary fight. In its place was acceptance and a want.

"Sir, please..." It was small, a plea as Keith ached for release already, pent-up to keep his boyfriend happy with dark flushed cheeks, his hand tightening on the pole until his knuckle was white as snow in contrast to his skin normally.

Lance's eyes widened in slight surprise as Keith continued to babble on with tiny "sir"s and such the more he didn't do anything—he didn't dare comment on it, and instead reveled at how he could make Keith become undone by him like this.

Keith ended up taking three fingers, not as good of a replacement to fuck himself on than an actual cock, but reminiscent to the size of Lance's, even with slightly less of a satisfactory rating.

He came untouched with a high-pitched whiny moan, holding Lance's arms in a grip that could leave bruises as he squeezed his eyes shut and let his orgasm ripple through him. Lance easily swallowed Keith's cum (he loved holding over Keith's head the fact that he could take all of his dick in his mouth—Keith ignored it every time with a heavy red flush to his face and a glare), appeased at the state Keith's in. He takes it in and quickly takes care of himself, groaning as he bites his lip before coming not far behind Keith by palming himself thoroughly through his trunks. He purposefully coats not inside but the outer sides of Keith's walls, hearing the hoarse little sigh.

He's been covered in bruises, his hair still wet from the water but tussled from obvious sex. Keith's flushed and still shaking from the aftermath, his skin pink and tender from the man-handling.

Lance placed soft gentle kisses everywhere, pulling his swim trunks back up and forgoing Keith's own for now to transport him into the wall to sit and relax his back against something.

They both smiled small and subdued at each other, Keith still slightly in his own little version of subspace as they just held hands and immersed themselves in the moment. Lance himself wasn't even sure if Keith even recalled calling him sir; he very much wished he'd do it again.

"Babe," Lance started in a whisper, carefully massaging Keith's loose body as he came back to reality, grinning softly. "You still need to be punished—if you want to."

Realization dawned in Keith's eyes, although lidded, and although he turned an embarrassed red Lance could easily tell Keith wanted this due to his bizarre behavior—sometimes he felt he needed this when he was too stressed; it was a relief of sorts for him. "I want to."

"Turn over for me when you're ready, then, sweetheart," Lance coaxed, continuing to care for Keith's littered body as he kept on catching his breath until Keith did what he was asked eventually. His movements were sluggish and lagged but draped with needy dependence. He bowed his head and held his hands clasped behind him.

Turning to drape himself and lay on his stomach in Lance's lap, he breathed out any stress that remained in his body. Lance rubbed the cheeks of his ass, still slightly pink from that spank earlier he had given him somehow, making Keith squirm.

Lance stilled him, "You know the rules, baby boy—what's the safeword?"

"Bandana."

"Good. Color?"

"Green."

Lance hummed, "Why should I punish you? You were behaving so well earlier. Tell me, please."

Keith's ears burned, "I wanted to touch myself without your permission..." a beat passes, "and I deserve it."

Lance's eyebrows shot up slightly in surprise.

"Why do you think you deserve it, kitten?"

Keith made a sort of frustrated growl, mainly of pent-up exhaustion. "I want to forget," was all he simply said, but Lance could detect the watery tone.

Lance slipped out of his slight dominant role, concerned, "What happened in that dream?" He knew it was about that. He could read Keith far too well to have guessed otherwise.

Keith just shook his head, "Bad. 'S bad." He sniffled, contempt dripping at the edges of his soul because he had held it together so well while Lance was asleep. He had handled it well appeasing himself with Lance's thumb to chase away the imagery but it seemed he still needed not only to be independent about his feelings, but dependent on Lance to help solve them.

It was just a dream but it was, like he had said, bad to put it in lame terms.

Maybe that was why he kept on slipping in and out of this headspace; he wanted Lance to dominate him, use him and fuck him like a toy without a purpose for the wrong reason. He felt horrible, and his chest swelled over with this culminating pain because it was  _too much_  and the submissive side of him wanted  _too much_  from Lance.

They hadn't even done much to begin with tonight, though, but Lance was being so very understanding with everything.

It made him feel extremely greedy, and it all swirled into a gigantic mix of alarm as he just couldn't stop the first sob from coming.

He didn't outwardly cry; no, he was still tired from doing it earlier. He felt drained, but he still pulled with need at Lance's strings.

Keith wanted. He really, really did. But his mind kept replaying like a record the bad thoughts over and over again until it got stuck on the scratched part.

_Not needed. Not wanted. Cast aside. Given up. Nobody stopped him. Nobody cared. They're better off without him._

On the other end his mind supplied the good thoughts to counteract.

_Lance cares. They all care. They like having him. He's family._

"Kitten?" Lance pulled Keith out of his thoughts, petting his hair soothingly with his expression in a chilly protective way on his face (not that Keith could see it). "Tell me what's wrong, please? I can't help you if I don't know, okay?"

Keith nodded, pausing slightly before explaining it all to him—that useless feeling of not deserving to be here, this crushing feeling of all his insecurities bearing down at him that he thought he could handle in one now far too eventful quiet night.

Lance was silent for a bit, until he spoke back up. His voice didn't waver.

"You don't need to leave." It was fortified, solid.

That was the thing; he was still a Blade. He still had to go on missions. Keith still needed to be useful and on hand. He'd stayed the night with Lance, planning for it to be simple, maybe for him to make soft love to him or to just hang out to catch up along with the others.

He hadn't expected to be held down and restrained this hard that everything was so pleasant and lovely that it washed away his constant nightmares into a tiny ebb of his mind. He thought he could handle it.

Like most things as of late, he couldn't seem to.

"I have to." He kept it at that, tiny. He shifted, moving Lance's hand until he could put the limb on his ass, breathing out as calm as he could with tears gathering in his eyes.

"You could make me forget about having to do that, though. For now, at least. For tonight."

"...Alright. You know the drill, count and thank me after each one." With a relented breath, he repositioned himself and Keith. His left hand planted itself firmly on Keith's back to keep him still, the other placed on his ass.

With that, they left Keith's problems on the back burner to be sizzled away by each spank. He raised his ass slightly more in the air with the purpose of wanting Lance to leave remnants.

Bruises, bite-marks, his cheeks red so much that he'd feel it tomorrow and throughout the day.

Lance pushed his ass down with a warning commanding growl, and Keith backed down albeit with a snarky sense of defiance, the submissive side sneaking back in. "I expect you to behave, and take your spanking well like a good little boy should, do I make myself clear?"

"Yessir," Keith murmured, words already slurring together as he relaxed. Lance tugged on his hair hard, peeling away a sharp gasp and causing his softening cock to get half-hard again by the familiar tingling in his scalp.

"Speak louder, and slower—it's quite rude to mumble when speaking to me, baby."

"Yes, sir," He stated more firmly, flexing his fingers against the tile that he could feel from Lance's lap.

"That's better."

Without him even realizing it at first, Lance brought his hand down with a resounding smack. It echoed throughout the room, and Keith let out a cry of surprise. He lurched forward as much as he could with Lance keeping him in place. "One, thank you."

It descended with that, the pain getting sharper and clarified with each smack brought upon him. He responds clear with the amount and his thankfulness each time he can if applicable at that moment.

It teeters at the twentieth count when he feels Lance reach his hand from delivering the blows to his ass to gently tugging on the nape of his neck in a certain known way that has his toes curling in bliss as he's sent in over the edge again, coming all over Lance's lap and soiling the trunks.

Keith feels numb, overwhelmed as tears (that had started forming by time ten had rolled around) streak down his face. He's aware enough of Lance smacking his bottom in a sort of rhythm, before rubbing it with gentle purpose, cooing at Keith as he brings him to face him in his lap.

Keith knows he looks like an utter mess, and he definitely feels like one too. His legs are on either side of Lance; he's splayed open on display and too tired to move as he leans his head on Lance's chest.

Keith nuzzles securely into him. Lance's breath is only a single tingle on his body compared to the bubbling warmth in his heart for the boy who has begun to gather him up and rock him as he gently sobs.

Perhaps doing this in the upside down pool wasn't the best proportioned idea to start with, but the feeling of Lance's caring touch holding him makes Keith's brain fuzz and sizzle like an electrical cord held astray underwater—pleasant in all the right places he wants it to be.

Keith trusts Lance with this side of himself. The part that wants to be treasured, cared for, held and rocked without ridicule, and taken care of.

Eventually his wretched sobs go from whiny whimpering cries to only pity sniffling.

"You like it when I hold you like this, don't you, baby? When I've got your ass all marked pretty?" He nods at the whisper to his ear, too tired to form words, eyes closing because he may hold stamina for more orgasms tonight, but he was terribly exhausted emotionally which affected him physically.

(Lance will admire tomorrow morning when Keith gets out of bed the many bruises all over his body and vaguely hand-created pink marks on his ass, remembering how they happened with a dopey love-struck grin.)

"You look absolutely beautiful, all naked and vulnerable in my lap," Lance nibbles on his ear to attract his attention, "how are you feeling now?"

"'M...'m tired." He manages to say, body Jell-O as he shifts. It's like he's trying to fuse with Lance, tucking himself in a burrow until he's firmly against Lance and groaning in protest at the slightest movement that isn't his own.

He can't help but giggle softly when Lance licks the shell of his ear, bringing up his shoulder to urge Lance away but he's being held captive. Keith snorts as behind his ears are assaulted, with fingers too light they're feathery—he's too tired to hide it as he ducks out of the way, making Lance ensure he's safely delivered to the ground as Lance hovers above him.

His hair is splayed out all over the ground, in messy black curls—Keith shivers at the cold floor everywhere on his body, but relaxes when he feels Lance's arms wrapping around him like vines on his back. They trace over the big scar from his trials of Marmora on his shoulder; he's not one to pay attention to scars much, but that one is a reminder of insight to his heritage, to what started so many late nights questioning if he belonged.

It's peacefully quiet for a few moments, considering what they just did not that long ago, but they don't stop to care.

Lance huffs down at Keith, who just blinks up at him with lidded eyes, violets earnest and sharp no matter what state. His calm and concise blues meet them, and they both just breathe.

Lance carefully helps Keith back into his lap, because he was a living furnace compared to temperature-sensitive Keith who is cold to the touch due to not only the floor but his retaining ability to absorb said temperature.

"We've got to go back to bed, angel," Lance hums as Keith resumes his nesting into his body unconsciously, "do you want me to get your trunks?"

Keith confirms with a soft grunt, so he lets Lance lift him off to sit on the floor. He yawns, watching him retrieve the forgotten swimming article, eyes closing as his thumb finds its known way back to his mouth.

Lance goes over to the closest edge to where they're floating, successfully nabbing them without having to actually get in the pool. He cheers silently to himself, shaking them out as best he can to dry them. He begins heading back, but stops in his tracks when what he sees makes him melt all over again for a second.

The sight he's met with is Keith curled up in a ball against the wall, his thumb already past his lips—he must be extremely tired, then. Once he walks up to him, he leans down to move Keith's fringe out of his eyes, making him look up at Lance open and unguarded.

Scooting Keith's body a bit into the water to rinse off the cum in order to make him less sticky, Lance reached for a towel to dry him off with. Keith just grunted a bit, and once he was no longer wet Lance wrapped the towel around his shoulders.

Lance did the same to himself, making sure they were both dry so they wouldn't track water throughout the castle-ship's hallways.

Keith does what Lance likes to loosely describe as grabby hands, yawning once more.

"You're really sleepy, huh, samurai?" He asks as he coaxed the trunks onto Keith's body, carefully pulling them on before picking up his boyfriend. Normally Keith would argue or squabble to be put down, but he was too spent to attempt such. He just wraps his arms around Lance's neck, shrugging.

"Let's go to bed." Lance knocks their foreheads together feather-like, and Keith relents to the carrying as he's held Princess-style.

Lance manages no incident of the others seeing him carrying a wrecked near-slumber Keith. They head back to Lance's room, and once the door is secure and locked he lays Keith down on the bed. Lance nudges him lightly to ask a question, not wanting to do anything without his permission.

"Trunks on or off?" It's futile as he asks, the shorts haphazardly on Keith's hips, obviously rushed on. Keith tugs them down weakly as an answer, and Lance hums and nods, tasking himself with getting them both comfortable.

Once that task is complete and they entangle their naked bodies back together, he wraps Keith and himself up in a blanket. He carefully caresses Keith's body under it, and Keith purrs in technical pleased delight.

"I love you," Lance tacks on in another whisper, taking care of Keith as he yawns, finishing up before tugging him closer until he's under his chin. Safe and sound, and not away on a life-threatening mission.

"Love you too." Keith hums, bringing Lance's thumb back to where it should be and nibbling on it absent-mindedly before the sleep that had chased him captures him. He leaves a slight amount of drool on Lance's neck as he suckles.

Lance breathes, savoring it, before joining him; they settle in after he tugs the sheets on top of them. He breathes, leaning up to peck a light special kiss on Keith's forehead. Keith doesn't feel it, too un-coercive to the world and out cold.

Then, he hears it: the soft, gentle rumble that starts and takes over with no threats in Keith's chest. He smiles at him, tucking him underneath him and relishing in the vibrations he feels when having him pressed up close to him.

He falls asleep to the unabashedly obvious sound of his boyfriend purring, and Lance figures they can clean up and take care of themselves more farther along in the morning—after all, the lights read sometime past midnight and the clock states the time of only two o'clock.

Keith sleeps without trouble this time, shoulders relaxed without looking wary and ready to strike; the tension seemingly had been relieved.


End file.
